


Gravity of You

by madrose_writing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fake Dating, Forbidden Relationships, Hermione is of age, Hidden Relationships, Professor Tom Riddle, Taboo Relationships, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29118471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrose_writing/pseuds/madrose_writing
Summary: Hermione never thought her attraction to Professor Riddle was more than a passing crush. Or that it would be mutual. But being his student means they have to keep their relationship a secret. But no matter what lengths they take, secrets always have a habit of getting out.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle
Comments: 24
Kudos: 155





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a magical AU in which Tom Riddle is just a brilliant young wizard.
> 
> Fancast for Tom Riddle is forever Tom Hughes
> 
> I am on TikTok as madrose_writing so if you plan on sharing my content in any way, PLEASE TAG ME!
> 
> *currently I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION to have this or any of my fics bound.

**ONE**

_**Tuesday, 1 September 2020** _

To a vast majority of students around the world, no matter what school they went to, the first day usually started off with a groan. They would plead and beg with their parents; bargaining anything they could think of for one more day of summer. But not Hermione. For her, it was the best day of the year. She never had to bother with an alarm because she was up long before it even went off. That morning she was up before the rising sun began to color the sky.

It was her last year of Hogwarts. The last year she would be able to attend the place that had once only been a part of her fantasies. From the day she turned eleven and an official from the school came to deliver the news that she wasn't an ordinary person, she had been dreaming of the castle they said was a school. And the moment she stepped into the library, she knew she never wanted to leave.

This year, she was Head Girl; the highest accolade a student could get. She intended to be early to the train, wanting to make sure she was as helpful as possible for all new and returning students. A part of her wondered if her counterpart would be there just as early. She snorted at her own thoughts knowing full well that Draco would take every last minute of his beauty sleep that he could get. And knowing him, he would be extra late this year because he knew that it would drive her mad.

For all the teasing that he did to her over the years, when it came down to it, she didn't mind his presence. He was only second behind her in all of their classes and when he wasn't being a prat, he was nice to talk to. Their friendship befuddled a lot of people and they were known for going from zero to a hundred in five seconds or less.

It wasn't a surprise that most of the school thought there was something going on between them. Something she was sure would only get worse because as Heads, they would be sharing a dorm outside of their normal Houses. The thought had crossed her mind once or twice in the last year or two, but knowing he was attractive and being attracted to him were two vastly different things. Even if he was slightly interested in her, she knew logically they would never work. They were both far too similar.

But even the thought of the rumor mill crashing down around her wouldn't deter her mood for the day. She penned her parents a letter, letting them know she had gone out to grab breakfast and would write to them when she got to Hogwarts. They had said their goodbyes over dinner the night before and they knew she wouldn't have any problems getting herself to King's Cross.

Since she was seventeen, her birthday only two weeks into the school year, making her the oldest of her class, she could use magic to get to the train, but called for a Muggle cab instead. She loaded her things into the car, hoping the driver didn't get too nosy or ask questions like the last one had. At least she had remembered to cast a charm on her trunks to lighten them before she left, that way there were less chances of getting caught. It made juggling everything far easier. If only she had done the same to Crookshanks…

She told the cabbie to take her to the train station, but asked that he drop her off at the café a little bit further down the road. Since the train didn't depart until eleven, most students and their families would be arriving between nine and ten. That meant she still had a good hour before she had to be there. It would be nice to have the train to herself for a bit anyway.

She took a seat outside on the patio, enjoying the last bit of warmth that clung to the air. She placed her order with the waitress and then pouted at her familiar. "I'm sorry, Crooks. When we get to the train I'll let you out of that dreadful carrier. I promise."

He responded with a noise that Hermione determined to be not quite a growl, but not quite a meow either. As it was, she opened her trunk, plucked out the book on the top of the stack, and opened to the place she had marked. When her food arrived, she picked at it while continuing to read; all the while feeding bits of her meal to Crookshanks. When it was time to head out, she placed enough Muggle money on the table to cover her order and tip quite generously and then gathered her things to head to the station.

It took a fair bit of precise juggling, but she managed to make it down the road without dropping anything or jostling her cat too much. It was easier once she took hold of a trolley and set everything down on top of it. She began her walk towards the correct platform and after a quick check to make sure she wasn't being watched, she picked up pace and sprinted toward the barrier.

Her grin was wide at the sight of the Hogwarts Express. It was a bittersweet moment to see it and she was glad that she was alone for a moment. It was the last, first time she would see the locomotive. The next time she saw it, it would be taking her back here, marking the end of her introduction to the wizarding world. Unless she went home for any of the holidays, but she wanted to spend as much time as possible inside the castle this year; something she had already discussed with her parents.

Able to use her magic freely now that she was beyond the barrier, she charmed her things to follow in a neat row behind her as she ditched the trolley and went to board the first car. She stashed her trunk into the proper place, taking the book she had been reading along with her, and continued on until she found the Head's compartment. She let Crooks out of his carrier and he bounded away immediately. She shrunk the carrier and tucked it into her handbag. She wouldn't be needing it again until after graduation.

She debated changing into her robes, but decided there was still enough time to do that later. Typically, no one wore them until the train got closer to Hogwarts anyway. Instead, she settled for pinning her Head Girl badge to her shirt. Wanting some time alone with the train for sentimental reasons, she tucked her book under her arm and set off through the compartments, taking her time to look around and reminisce.

Not that there was much to look back on. For the most part, she kept to herself. Aside from Draco, someone she barely classified as a friend most days, her only real friend was Harry Potter. They had met on the train their very first trip and had bonded rather quickly. They hadn't had too much in common, but there was something about him that made the two of them inseparable. Other than that, there were acquaintances, but largely, unless they needed help with an assignment, not many people went out of their way to talk to her.

And honestly, she didn't mind one bit. It gave her the freedom to work her way through the library, book by book. If it wasn't for Harry making her attend all the House parties, Quidditch games, and other social events, she wouldn't do anything other than read.

She was drawn from her thoughts at the sound of a throat clearing. She stilled for a moment and then took a few steps forward, peering around one of the compartment doors. She did a double take at the sight of Professor Riddle sitting near the window reading the paper. "Oh, hello Professor," she said, a wide grin on her face.

He folded the paper and stared up at her with wide eyes for a moment before smiling back at her. "Miss Granger," he said, looking down at his watch. "You're very early."

"Well I wouldn't be very helpful if I was anything but," she said.

He gave a nod and she wet her lips as his eyes traveled down. She saw the way they paused at her actions before lowering further. His brow lifted slightly before his gaze snapped back to hers. "Is that the textbook for my class?"

She felt the heat creep up to her cheeks as she removed the book from under her arm and nodded. "What else am I supposed to do with my spare time?"

He chuckled as he set the paper on the seat beside him and ran a hand through his dark brown waves. "There are other types of books, Miss Granger. Perhaps you could read something that isn't your school texts while on your summer holiday."

"And let Malfoy have a chance at taking my spot at the top?" she teased.

His smile widened as he tried not to laugh more. "He might be second as far as scores are concerned, but we both know it isn't even a close second."

There was a moment of silence that settled between them. Hermione looked down at the ground between them, tucking her hair behind her ear several times while her other hand clutched her book to her chest. "Are you able to resume our tutoring sessions this year?" she asked, unable to keep the hope out of her voice.

The briefest flicker of hesitation shone in his dark grey eyes, but his smile never wavered as he nodded. "Once everything settles, I'll let you know the day of the week and a time that works best." His head canted to the side ever so slightly. "Have you narrowed down your list of careers you're interested in?"

She bit her lip and gave the weakest nod of her life. "Technically, I crossed some options off, yes, but it wasn't many."

Riddle only shook his head softly and gave her the look that made her heart race and her breath quicken. Granted, she had seen that look cause the same effect on nearly every female student at least once a year, but it was different when it was the two of them. It always had been. From the first time she had laid eyes on him at the age of eleven she knew there was something different about him. She had always been told she was mature for her age, but whenever she was around him, she felt the opposite.

Realistically, she knew it was some silly crush, one that even academically driven bookworms such as herself weren't able to abstain from having. But she had seen the way he acted with the other students. He never looked at them the way he looked at her. When she was younger, it was the admiration of her thirst for knowledge that earned his praise, but as she grew older, she recognized that that wasn't the only thing lingering in his gaze. And there were times when she was around him, whether alone or not, that she could feel his eyes on her when she wasn't looking. She'd caught him a handful of times; enough to know who it was the times she didn't. Though, if she were completely honest with herself, some of those times it was him that caught _her_ lingering gaze.

But he never acted on anything and neither did she. They kept their discussions academic, though they would occasionally venture out into other social topics. That in itself was what had helped develop her crush. No one else in the castle could have such a passionate discussion with her about a variety of topics. Things her peers would consider too mundane were the things he perked up at.

She knew a part of why they got along so well was that he was the youngest professor in the history of Hogwarts. He had started the job right at the age of twenty-one, making him just ten years older than she was. And the next youngest professor was in their fifties which meant he enjoyed having someone to discuss his interests with as well.

All in all, nothing they did was inappropriate. At least, it hadn't been until the last day of her sixth year. She had purchased a gift for him from their last trip to Hogsmeade earlier that month. She had gone into his office before breakfast with the intention of just leaving it in his desk drawer, knowing he would find it eventually, but he was on the other side of the door when she let herself in.

He invited her in regardless and she had handed him the monogramed dragon scale notebook with a never ending quill, complete with a phoenix feather plume. He had taken it from her, eyes wide in wonder as she told him it was a thank you gift for all his tutoring sessions. And before she even knew she was moving, she had reached out and wrapped her arms around him. Realizing her mistake, she went to move, only to find his arms around her instead.

They had stayed that way for quite some time before slowly pulling back at the exact same moment. And when they did, they paused again, faces dangerously close to one another. He had cleared his throat and stepped back rather quickly, a nervous smile on his lips. She thanked him again and took off before either of them did something they couldn't take back.

She had thought about it several times over the summer, mostly wondering if things would be awkward between them, but so far, she was glad to find that wasn't the case. She just hoped that didn't change.

"We'll have to work on narrowing it further," he said, drawing her from her thoughts.

Hermione nodded and just as they lapped into silence again, she heard voices from outside the train, signaling that others were starting to arrive. "I guess that's my cue," she said with a smile. "I'll see you at the welcome feast," she added and inclined her head before taking leave of his compartment. Once a little further down the hall, she paused to shake her head and straighten her clothes before switching into Head Girl mode once again and stepping out to see what she could do to help.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your patience on this one :)
> 
> As I'm sure you've seen, both with my lack of updates or if you're in my FB group: madrose_writing, my heart just isn't in it anymore. For my mental health as well as my career, I've decided to take a step back from fanfiction. I do still plan to update this one and Divergence, but posts will be rather scarce.
> 
> Thank you in advance for understanding and just know that I'm okay and I'll be back eventually :)

**TWO**

_**Thursday, 10 September 2020** _

Two weeks into term and she was already on the verge of jinxing Malfoy to pieces. He was everywhere. She couldn't go more than a minute without seeing that smug expression on his face or hearing his voice without it grating on her every nerve. He was there when she woke up. He was there, stealing all the hot water no matter when she tried to take a shower. He was in nearly every one of her classes and had _insisted_ on pairing up with her because they were Heads when she knew damn well it was because she would do all the work.

But today was the first duel of Defense and she was more than ready to let off some steam in the name of learning.

Of course, she had seen his ability to duel; seen it change and grow stronger throughout their years of having the class together. He was as confident in his spell work as he was in his looks. But after seeing the glint in her eye once they had taken their places opposite each other, she saw some of that confidence waver.

Professor Riddle stepped in between them on the dueler's platform and looked at Malfoy before her. "I know you're both aware of the rules, so I won't rehash them here. I only seek to remind you both to keep it clean." His gaze lingered on Hermione just a second longer than it did on Malfoy and she rolled her eyes. "You may begin," he said, clearing out of their way.

The moment he stepped onto the stone floor of the classroom, Hermione launched her first spell. It hit Malfoy square in the shoulder and he hissed as his shield activated a moment too late. His gaze narrowed slightly as he shook out his arm as she smirked at him while her mind plucked the next spell to use from her mental library.

Where he still hadn't quite mastered wordless incantations, he was good at keeping his wand movements to a minimum, making him just as hard to predict. The grip on her wand almost slipped as his hex hit her wrist and sent shockwaves up her arms. By the time she regained the grip of her wand, he had already sent another jinx her way, but she managed to step out of the way, firing two spells in rapid succession back to him.

There were a few more simple exchanges from both of them as if they were testing the waters, but as she landed a spell in the center of his chest, the moment shifted. Both of them stopped holding back and before she knew it, there was a sheen of sweat on her brow and a burning of her magical core from putting it through the ringer.

Just as she thought she was going to collapse from exhaustion, she landed a spell that sent him to his knees and had him yielding. Hermione sank to the ground herself and panted for air as Professor Riddle declared her the winner of the day and then checked on both of them. After determining they were fine, but free to go to Madam Pomfrey if they needed, the platform disappeared and the normal rows of tables and chairs returned.

Malfoy approached her with a tick in his jaw, but his hand out. She took it without hesitation and gave it a firm shake. "Well done, Granger. I didn't think you had it in you."

She huffed as she shoved him playfully away from her. "You should know better than to think I'd ever lose to you at anything."

The tips of his lips twitched as his eyes narrowed. "It's only the beginning of the year. I have plenty of time to best you in a rematch."

"You're on," she said, rising to the challenge as the bell chimed to signal class being dismissed.

They gathered their things, both them not bothering to rush out into the hall like everyone else. They might not need any potions or other forms of healing, but they were too exhausted to fight their way to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Great job you two," Professor Riddle said from where he was leaning back on the edge of his desk. "Ten points to each of your Houses."

"Ten?" Malfoy questioned; lips curled into a friendly sneer.

But Riddle didn't miss a beat as he smiled at Hermione. "And another ten to Gryffindor for a well-earned victory."

Hermione's smile was bright as she turned to gloat at Malfoy. "Thank you, Professor!"

Malfoy turned away then, muttering something that distinctly sounded like the word favorite and left the classroom with a wave of his hand over his shoulder. Hermione shook her head and laughed, watching him go as she hoisted her bag over one shoulder. "He almost had you there, didn't he?"

Hermione sighed heavily as they both turned towards the door. "He really did," she admitted.

His hand came up to rest on her shoulder, the contact making them both go still. Hermione swallowed hard, her body hyper aware of his touch. When she lifted her gaze up the length of his arm, she saw his throat constrict as his eyes darkened slightly. He kept his hand there for a moment longer than necessary and when he did pull away, the tips of his fingers ghosted down the exposed skin of her upper arm.

"Have a nice lunch, Miss Granger," he said, turning back to his desk, his voice tight.

She wet her lips and gave a nod, but didn't say anything as she took her leave of the classroom.

* * *

_**Saturday, 12 September 2020** _

Harry was on the opposite end of the couch, but unlike Hermione, his textbook was closed and his parchment had been rolled up for quite some time. He was just sitting there with his feet propped up on the coffee table, reading Quidditch Through the Ages again. She was glad to see that a Christmas present from years ago was still a favorite. Even if it was the only thing he read, at least it was a book. She would count it as a win.

"So what are we doing next weekend?" he asked, setting the book down next to him so he could turn his attention to her.

"What's next weekend?" she asked without looking up from her essay.

"Really?" he snorted before dissolving into a fit of laughter. "Brightest witch of her age doesn't remember her own birthday?"

Hermione did look up from her essay then, if only just to give Harry a barely there smile. "We can just wait to get a Butterbeer when we go to Hogsmeade."

"That's three weeks _after_!" He shook his head at her. "Come on, Mione, we should do something. In seven years of friendship, you haven't let me celebrate it properly yet." She frowned at the sight of him looking around the private dorm for her and Draco. "Maybe we could throw-"

"Please no," she whispered.

"-a party?"

As if on cue, Draco came into the common space through the main entrance, a wicked grin on his face. "A party?"

Hermione sighed again and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Why is it that you only hear the things that benefit you?" she groused, turning in her seat to scowl at him.

"I believe you're the one that told me men have a predisposition for selective hearing," he replied without missing a beat. He shrugged out of his robes and came to plop himself down on one of the chairs across from the couch. "I think a party is a great idea," he said, grinning between the two of them. "What's the occasion?"

"Hermione's turning eighteen on Saturday."

Draco's grin widened even more. "That's right, you're older than us." He rubbed his hands together and looked at Harry. "I was actually just telling Granger it would be a shame to let our private space go to waste. I'd be more than happy to help you plan it, Potter."

"Excellent."

Hermione packed up her things and got to her feet muttering all sorts of things about how she would be planning something of her own. "Not that either of you will listen to me, but please do try and keep your plans as minimal as possible."

"Of course," they replied at the same time which made her anxiety shoot through the roof.

"Gods help me," she murmured as she retired to her room, leaving the two of them to their own devices to plot her birthday.

* * *

_**Sunday, 13 September 2020** _

Despite not having the commotion that was the Gryffindor common room, Hermione still preferred spending her Sunday mornings in the library. She was the only one in the entire school that Madam Pince didn't feel the need to monitor and given that she had a pass to the Restricted Section, she went about perusing the shelves without having to worry about getting in trouble.

"A little early to be practicing the Dark Arts, is it not?"

Hermione paused with her fingers hovering over the spine of a book. Slowly, she turned around to face Professor Riddle with a sheepish grin on her face. "One can never be too prepared."

He let out a light chuckle and peered around her for the name of the section. "How high on your list is caring for magical creatures?"

"Pretty high," she replied. She glanced behind her again and then back to Riddle. "Even the worst creatures on the planet should be dealt with in a humane way."

"A noble gesture," he said, a smile tugging at his lips. "One that could definitely get you in far too much trouble."

"Regardless, I think it better to know what I'm facing rather than be kept in the dark."

His eyes shone with pride for a moment as he inclined his head. "Are you still taking Professor Hagrid's class?"

She nodded readily. "A bit unorthodox in his methods, but I'd rather learn about the creatures from the creatures, not the texts."

His brow lifted as his head canted to the side. "Is that a jab at my curriculum, Miss Granger?"

She couldn't help the laugh that bubbled past her lips. "Of course not, Professor. I think you do a fine job of blending the two as well."

"Well I'm glad to hear that." He lifted the book that was tucked in his arm and with a flick of his wand, the book returned to the shelf he had taken it from.

"What about you?" she asked, watching the book slide into place. Her eyes studying him when they returned to his face. "I didn't realize the Dark Arts made for good bedtime material. I would have nothing but nightmares."

"Just getting some ideas for lesson plans." He saw the way her eyes widened as they flickered around the space. "Nothing too horrible, Miss Granger. I would never compromise the safety of my students."

She cleared her throat and gave a slow nod. "I know."

They fell into silence, the pair staring at one another for some time. It was when his gaze started to drift downward that she felt hers do the same. By the time their gazes reconnected on the way up, she realized that it wasn't just her breath that had quickened ever so slightly.

"Do Wednesday nights work for you?" he asked.

It took her a moment to realize why he was asking that. She nodded and flashed him a smile. "Wednesday nights are perfect."

"After dinner?"

She nodded again. "Sounds perfect."

He smiled and after another sweep of his gaze over her from head to toe, he turned to leave. "Then I'll leave you to your morning ritual."


	3. Chapter 3

**THREE**

_**Wednesday, 16 September 2020** _

Hermione shifted in her seat as Professor Riddle took a look at her list of potential career options. He was behind the desk in his office, reclining in the chair enough so that he could prop his feet up on his desk. She sat on the opposite side, feet planted on the floor, knees pressed together, hands wringing in her lap. Her eyes were glued to his face, trying to gage his thoughts as he read it. While he might have had the best poker face in the world, she had learned to read his barely there expressions over the years.

"You crossed off _one_ thing," he said after a moment, finally looking up at her.

"I told you it wasn't many," she countered, offering a small smile.

"You said some," he reminded her. "Some implies more than one."

She drew a deep breath and smiled sheepishly, wiping her palms on her knees. "How am I supposed to choose when I don't really know what each one is about?" She shook her head as she leaned forward to take her list from him. "As a Muggle, I would have had college to explore my options."

"Let me guess," he said, lacing his fingers together across his lap as he quirked a brow at her. "You had a similar list of Muggle jobs before you ever learned you were a witch."

She narrowed her eyes at him, distantly aware that he was making fun of her on some level. "Of course," she replied, choosing to rise above it.

"And what was at the top of that list?"

"Veterinarian," she answered without hesitation.

His smile was soft as he swept a hand in her direction. "Then why not go for the magical equivalent and talk to Professor Hagrid about your options?"

It sounded so simple when he said it and it felt right, but there was still something that held her back. "But what if I start down that path and find that I don't like it?"

"Then you start over with something else," he said. "The same as if you were going to college and you changed your major halfway through."

Hermione leaned back in her chair and sighed heavily, her eyes roving over her list nonstop. "What if I never like any of them?" she asked, her right leg beginning to bounce with nervous energy. "What if-"

"Hermione…"

Her eyes snapped up to his, watching as he lowered his legs to the floor so he could scoot forwards and fold his arms over the desk.

"You should go with your gut," he told her. "You're brilliant; even smarter than I was at your age. You can do whatever it is that you set your mind too. I know that you want to know everything about this world and I understand. But you have to know your limits. If you stretch yourself too thin trying to do it all, you'll never be happy with your choices." He stretched his hand out, beckoning his fingers in askance for the list again. She handed it over and watched as he searched it for something. "Here," he said after a moment, pointing to an item about halfway down. "You wrote 'care for magical creatures' twice; the first one being at the top of the list."

Hermione's eyes flickered up to the top of the parchment where, sure enough, the career option was written the first time. She blinked rapidly in surprise. Of all the times she had pulled out that list, stared at it, agonized over it, added to it, she had never realized that had been listed more than once. "Oh," she murmured, a small smile on her face as she took a deep breath. "I suppose that settles it then."

He set the list down on the desk and shrugged. "Talk to Professor Hagrid. He can tell you more about your options. Perhaps he can even arrange for you to talk to others within the field."

Hermione perked up at that, the smile that took hold of her lips stretching so far her cheeks began to hurt. "He's mentioned he and Newt Scamander get together on occasion. I would love the chance to pick his brain about a few things."

"See?" he said, smiling back at her as she reached for the list. "Five second after making a choice and you're already excited."

"I couldn't have made it without you," she said as she got to her feet, stashing her list in the front pocket of her bag in the process.

He rose from his chair as well, knowing that their tutoring session for the night was already over. It had ended right before he asked for her list, something she had hoped he would have forgotten about. "You had already picked it," he said, making his way around the desk. "I just helped you realize it."

"Either way, thank you," she said as they moved towards the door of his office.

He extinguished the candles within with one simple flick of his wand before they stepped into the hall. It was followed by another movement to lock his office door. They stood in front of it, facing one another for a moment, silence settling over them. "There was no right or wrong answer when it came to that list," he said when the silence became too much for them. "You would have excelled at all of them."

"Thank you," she said again, warmth spreading to her face, making her turn away from him slightly. "I'll talk to Professor Hagrid tomorrow and let you know what he says."

"I look forward to the report."

She knew they were lingering now, trying to keep the conversation going because neither of them wanted to leave. But before either of them could think of anything to add, Professors Snape and McGonagall turned the corner. They both took a half step apart from each other before they turned to greet the others.

"Ah, still carrying on with your tutoring sessions?" McGonagall asked.

"I need them now more than ever with NEWTs coming up, Professor," Hermione said.

McGonagall's chuckle was soft. "Oh dear, if there was ever a student who did not need help, it would be you. Of course, it would make more sense if you had a tutor who's lessons were more in line with your career goals."

"I appreciate that," Hermione replied, careful not to look over at Professor Riddle. "But I would rather be over prepared for things I hope to never encounter than blindsighted should the occasion arise."

Snape simply rolled his eyes while McGonagall's smile never wavered. "You really are too smart for your own good. Now off to bed, Miss Granger. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

She gave a nod at the three of them, unable to keep her gaze from lingering on Riddle for a moment. "Goodnight Professors," she said and then turned to take her leave, her heart thundering in her chest as she hurried all the way back to her dorm for the night.

* * *

_**Saturday, 19 September 2020** _

Hermione should have known better than to trust Draco and Harry's definition of "just a few." Yet, she had gone and done it anyway. She tried to give them the benefit of the doubt, hoping that their hosting a party had just traveled by word of mouth. It would make her far less angry at the fact there were so many people in the common area of the Head's dorm she could barely move. Aside from the promise that she wouldn't have to lift a finger to clean up the next day, the only thing that kept her from reporting her own party was Draco tapping into his elite stash of Firewhiskey.

After a few shots of that, Hermione was much more open to the idea of being surrounded with people.

A few more and she was even having fun.

For the most part, she knew all of those in attendance and was glad to see that it was only Fifth years and above. However, as she went about the room, striking up a conversation with whoever crossed her path, she realized not everyone knew what the party was for. It confirmed her theory of people just wanting to get out and have a good time. It kept the attention off of her at least, which, if she were honest, was the real reason she hadn't wanted a party in the first place.

But it didn't matter how much Ogden's Finest was flowing through her system, when her limit for social interactions had been reached, she wanted the solace of her own space to recharge. Only, when she stepped into her room, she found that her bed was already occupied by not one, but _three_ other students. Too embarrassed to even make her presence known, she yanked the door closed and took leave of the party altogether.

It was a relief when she slipped out of the dorm and into the quiet halls of the castle. The contrast was like night and day, the silence almost as deafening as the party. She wandered the halls, one had stretched out, her fingers ghosting along the walls as she went. The slight chill in the air as fall settled into the Scottish Highlands made her wish she'd had her robes. Sure, she had her wand, but there were times when magic felt like a copout. If it got too cold, she would cast a warming charm. Until then, she allowed the cold to sober her up.

Hermione hadn't set out with a destination in mind, but it wasn't until she ended up turning down the same corridor as Riddle's office, she couldn't help but smile. She thought of their last encounter; the way they had stood outside the door, thinking of any reason that would allow them to linger, neither wanting to leave. She wondered what they would have said or done had Snape and McGonagall not come around the corner and interrupted them.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione jumped at the sound of Riddle's voice from outside her head. She whirled around to face him, instantly regretting the sudden movement. She swayed on her feet, her hand flying out to grip the wall before she fell. Only, instead of stone beneath her fingers, she felt flesh as Riddle stepped forward to keep her upright. She blinked up at him, a sheepish smile on her face as his eyes narrowed, roving over her with concern.

"'Fessor Riddle," she mumbled.

His eyes widened as he realized she was drunk. "This is new for you."

"'S my birthday," she said, his grip tightening on her arm as she started to lose her balance again.

"And here I thought you would have wanted to remember such an occasion," he said.

Hermione's lips pulled into a pout at the tone of his voice. "As if you've never been blitzed before?" she countered, trying to pull away from his grasp.

He loosened his hold, but didn't relinquish it. Instead, he took a step towards his office, pulling her with him. "I have," he replied after using his wand to unlock the door. "But never in front of a professor."

Hermione tried to imagine what Riddle would look like with as many shots of Firewhiskey as she had taken. She was sure her brain wasn't doing reality justice, but it brought forth a bout of laughter all the same. One that he simply hummed at as he led her to his desk and sat her down upon in.

"Draco was right," she said after the laughter had ebbed.

One side of Riddle's mouth curved as he gave a soft snort. "Further proof you over indulged."

"I mean it," she said, her brows furrowing as he moved to the other side of his desk. She heard him rummage around for something, but didn't turn to watch, knowing it would be a bad idea to move. "He said I should loosen up."

She heard Riddle sigh from behind her; a moment before the sound of a drawer closing reached her ears. "It's one thing to blow off steam and another to change oneself entirely," he said as he came to stand in front of her again. "Surely you won't be doing the latter," he added, lifting a vial of Sober Up between them.

She made no move to reach for it, letting her gaze simply flicker over it before coming back up to lock with his instead. Her shoulders lifted half-heartedly as she shifted on the desk. "It's my birthday," she breathed.

He inclined his head, keeping his gaze level with hers. "So you've said."

Hermione's tongue darted out to wet her lips, an action that made her heart skip a beat as Riddle's eyes flickered down to track the movement. Her breathing became shallow as she continued to watch him, the grey of his eyes darkening considerably the longer he started at her. Without a word, her hand came up, but instead of going for the potion he held, she wrapped her fingers around his tie. There was a brief moment in which they both paused, but when it passed, he leaned in at the same time she tugged him forward.

Her legs parted further as he closed the fractional gap between them. She heard the clink of the vial landing on the desk as he let go of it in favor of settling his hands on her hips. He pulled her closer as he wedged himself between her thighs, his lips descending over hers.

It was like coming home. Like the smell of rain in the spring. Fresh air unlike anything she had ever encountered before.

Hermione's attraction to him had always felt wrong before. Indecent. But here, in this moment, with his hands on her waist, his lips moving in a hungry rhythm with her own, it had never felt more _right_.

She squeezed her eyes shut, choosing to concentrate on the heat of his hands as he dug his fingers into her hips to pull her closer. Savoring the way he tasted; a combination of the Firewhiskey on her tongue as well as a bit of sweetness. She marveled at the way they gained confidence with each passing second. And when the timid hesitancy of the moment had passed, Hermione saw stars.

It was the small moan that fell from her lips into their kiss that had him turning his head to the side to end it. Both of them stayed where they were, wrapped up in one another, panting to catch their breath. His fingers flexed against her hip as his forehead pressed against hers. She kept her eyes closed, knowing that if she opened them or moved in any way, it would be over.

"Hermione…"

"Don't," she breathed, her voice cracking as much as his. Tears gathered behind her eyes, threatening to spill past her lashes as she let go of his tie. It had been too perfect of a moment for him to turn around and tell her he regretted it. Even if that were the case, she wanted a moment to pretend.

Despite wanting nothing more than to stay in the confines of his arms, Hermione knew it was time to leave. Without a word, he stepped back to let her up. She felt his gaze on her as she took the potion from his desk and tipped it to her lips. When she was finished, she set the empty vial back down and turned to go. But instead of being able to, his fingers wrapped around her wrist, pulling her to a stop.

"Happy birthday," he whispered, the warmth of his breath ghosting over her skin as his lips sought her cheek.

Hermione looked up at him then, her eyes wide as she searched his gaze. She swallowed hard as she gave a nod as he let go of her wrist, allowing her to finally go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well hello again! thank you for sticking with me on this one.
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	4. Chapter 4

**FOUR**

_**Tuesday, 22 September 2020** _

Hermione had no trouble sneaking back into her dorm on Saturday without being noticed. While her room was empty when she entered, she spent a great deal of time making sure her bed was clean. And even with the Sober Up potion having taken full effect, she slept straight through to lunch on Sunday. Instead of going to the Great Hall to eat, Harry and Draco had nicked a few things directly from the kitchen. They ate in their common room before Hermione retreated to her room once more, but not before the two of them promised to have the place thoroughly cleaned before she came back out.

When she left her room the following morning, the only evidence of there having been a party was in their memories alone. Then again, it wasn't the party that was replaying in her mind on a loop.

Hermione considered skipping breakfast on Monday, but thinking of how awkward things would be if the next time she saw Professor Riddle was in class instead of in a neutral zone had her following Draco that morning. Despite her promise to herself not to seek him out, the first thing she did upon crossing the threshold was look towards the row where the teachers sat. Her gaze immediately locked with Riddle's and her breath caught in her throat.

But instead of dragging out their exchange, risking others seeing it too, Riddle simply inclined his head and turned towards Professor Snape at his side, carrying his side of the conversation with little effort. Hermione swallowed hard at that and tore her gaze away, seeking out Harry at their usual spot at the Gryffindor table. She joined him, but instead of diving into the food before them, she simply sat there, wishing the butterflies in her stomach would stop kicking up such a storm.

She spent her lunch in the library and Riddle was absent from dinner that night. And if he had returned for breakfast Tuesday morning, Hermione never knew as she skipped it as well. Instead, she had stayed in her dorm, debating on whether or not she should even leave to go to class. Sure, they had barely seen one another since Saturday night and it would be obvious she was avoiding him if she cut class, but the butterflies in her stomach were relentless.

As she laid on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, she could still feel the pressure of his lips on hers. A shiver crept up her spine as the ghost of his hands on her hips tightened and pulled her closer. Even her thighs clenched as she remembered what it was like to have him slotted between them.

How she was supposed to sit in class and focus on anything else was beyond her at this point.

But the closer it got to the start of class, the less inclined Hermione felt to break her streak of perfect attendance. She had yet to miss a class, whether it be here at Hogwarts or when she attended Muggle primary school. She wasn't about to start now. Not over some boy; professor or not. With a heavy sigh, she got to her feet, gathered her things, and made her way out of the dorm.

It seemed, however, the Fates had other plans in store for her.

As she rounded the corner of the hallway that contained the dorm she shared with Draco, the one that lead to the main, ever-moving staircase, she heard it. Several young voices chanting and cheering. Hermione paused long enough to inhale deeply and sure enough, the acrid smell of certain spells hit her nose, cluing her in as to what was happening. She picked up the pace of her steps and held her wand out in front of her. The moment she saw the dueling duo of younger students, she hurled her own spells to immobilize them.

When everyone else had scattered, save for the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw pair, she retracted her spell and glared at them. "No dueling in the halls," she bit out.

"He said-"

"I was just-"

Another flick of her wand rendered them silent and she glared between them again. "I don't care who started what. No. Fighting." She nodded towards the stairs and flicked her wand again to turn them in the direction she wanted them to go. "Off to see the Headmaster."

She followed them, wand at the ready in case one of them felt inclined to try and run. Luckily, neither did and they made it to Dumbledore's office just as the bell sounded through the castle, signaling it was time for the next set of classes to start. Hermione ground her teeth after giving the password to the statue. She hadn't meant to be late for Riddle's class and she didn't quite care for how it would look when she walked in well after it started.

"Ah, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said as she stepped off the landing of the spiral staircase. "And Misters Norton and Friar. What can I do for you lot today?"

"I caught these two dueling in the hall just now, Headmaster."

Dumbledore hummed as he looked back and forth between the boys. "Have you taken any points yet?"

"No, Sir. I brought them straight here. I felt this was above what I could deem fair."

"Ah, certainly," he replied, gesturing for the boys to sit in front of his desk. He then flicked his wand at a piece of parchment and a quill, sending them towards Hermione. By the time it reached her, a note had already been written and the quill had gone dry. "You may return to whatever class you've been delayed from," he informed her, turning a sparkling gaze upon the boys. "You both should consider yourself lucky she didn't punish you herself."

Hermione bit back a smile and inclined her head as she took the note and turned to take her leave. Once back in the hallway, she took a deep breath and looked around. By now, everyone was starting their next classes. She wondered what was going through Riddle's head when he realized she wasn't there. Would he be worried? Would he think that something happened to her or that she never wanted to see him again? Every possible scenario played through her mind as her feet carried her through the castle without her even realizing.

She stopped in the hallway of the Defense classroom. She stared at the door from across the hall and tried to muster up the courage to go in. What helped the most was imagining Draco standing beside her, giving her hell for being such a chicken. She could hear him now, " _What kind of Gryffindor are you, Granger? Certainly not a brave one just standing in the hallway like this_."

So with a sigh and her fist clenched tight around the note from Dumbledore, she strode across the hall and slipped into the classroom.

The moment she crossed the threshold, everyone's heads turned to look at who it was that opened the door. She felt her cheeks redden as she caught Riddle's gaze. He quirked one brow at her in what she assumed was askance. She gave a jerky nod of her head and then hurried over to her seat next to Harry near the front of the room.

Whether it was for her benefit or his, Riddle went right back to his lecture. As if Hermione had been there all along and not just interrupted everyone by being tardy.

"You okay?" Harry whispered as she began to unpack her bag.

"Fine."

She sighed at the way he narrowed his eyes and then shoved the note at him to let him read. He simply rolled his eyes and handed it back before leaning back so she could see what page his book was open to. Once she opened hers to the same page, she closed her eyes long enough to push away the events of Saturday night so she could focus on the lecture.

A skill set she would have to practice at if she ever wanted to learn again.

By the time the class was over, Hermione couldn't recall a single word Riddle had said. All she could remember was what he'd said to her Saturday night while she was propped up on his office desk with him standing between her thighs.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione jumped in her seat at the sound of Professor Riddle calling her name. She cleared her throat and looked up at where he stood on the other side of her desk.

"See me after class."

"Yes, Professor," she replied automatically.

Harry snorted as he walked away. "As if you're in trouble, Mione. Relax, would you?"

Hermione attempted to play it off with a small laugh, but the only thing she managed was a shake of her head. She continued to pack her bag along with the others, but instead of getting up to leave right away, she stayed in her seat until the class was nearly empty.

With another clearing of her throat, Hermione approached the desk at the head of the room, her note from Dumbledore held out for Riddle to take.

He took it from her gently, his eyes gliding over it in a way that reminded her of when he had looked over her list of potential careers. Of how they had lingered in the hallway, taking small steps forward likes moths drawn to a flame.

"It wasn't my intention to be late, Professor," she began. "I was on my way when I heard-"

"Yes, the Headmaster's note has the details," he said, setting the parchment down on the desk.

Hermione swallowed around the lump that had formed in her throat. "Did I miss something important in the beginning of your lecture? I'm sure Harry will let me copy his notes."

The corners of his mouth twitched into the ghost of a smile as his head tipped to the side. "I'm not worried about what you missed seeing as how it wasn't much to begin with."

"Oh," she breathed, trying hard to keep herself from shaking as she held his gaze, unable to look away.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright," he said after a moment.

She nodded eagerly as she forced a smile. "I'm fine."

Hermione felt her entire body go still as he began to move around the desk so that he could face her with nothing more than an arms length of air between them. "Saturday night-"

Each of them jumped at the sound of the door to the classroom being opened again. Riddle took a step back as Hermione turned to see Draco waltz over to the desk he had been sitting at. He reached for a book he must have forgotten to repack and did a double take when he saw Riddle and Hermione at the front of the class. His eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of them, but before he could say anything, she turned back to Riddle.

"Anything else, Professor?"

He pursed his lips for a moment and then shook his head, returning her smile though it didn't reach his eyes. "No, you're free to go, Miss Granger."

With that, Hermione walked with Draco into the hall. Once they were a few doors down, he sped ahead of her only to stop in front of her. "Merlin, Granger, what _was_ that?"

"Nothing," she said, realizing she had answered far too quickly. "It was nothing," she added in a whisper before taking off in another direction, leaving him staring after her with a curious expression.

As much as she hated the awkwardness between her and Riddle, she hated that it had been Draco of all people to catch them. Not that they were doing anything, but Draco was far too observant for his own good. It was part of his Slytherin tendencies and she knew it would be only a matter of time before he came to her, asking for more information.

Only when she was in the confines of her own room was she able to take a deep enough breath. And as she laid out over her bed again, wishing she hadn't left it at all, she repeated, "It was nothing," in the hopes that it would make it true.

**Author's Note:**

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